


Taking You Home, Keeping You Here

by IdunAurora



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Day 3, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Russian Mafia, Victuuriweek2018, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 19:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13554174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdunAurora/pseuds/IdunAurora
Summary: “Well, look at you,” Viktor murmured, voice low and dark, drawing closer until Yuuri could make out piercing blue eyes boring into him, glimmering in wicked satisfaction and barely restrained anger, “finally a set of restraints that can hold my little bird in place, hm?”Or, the universe where Viktor’s patience isn’t endless, Yuuri was going home anyway, and they’re still absurdly bad at communicating.VictuuriWeek2018 Day 3: Mafia





	Taking You Home, Keeping You Here

**Author's Note:**

> Suggested and requested by a dear friend. I do hope I managed to do it justice (the prompt can be found in the end notes).

The shackles dug into his wrists as he shifted, attempting to find a more comfortable angle. Yuuri paused for a second to inhale deeply through his nose, mouth covered in duct tape, willing enough oxygen to reach his head to give him a chance to work out how to break away from his restraints.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, oh no. Yuuri had managed to free himself plenty of times from similar situations.

The problem?

This time around, his captor knew just how skilled Yuuri was at breaking free, and the shackles had been hand-tailored to make it difficult for him.

Yuuri cursed inwardly, tilting his head up in an attempt to look for a weak link, but he had been robbed of his contacts (because _of course_ that bastard had known he was wearing those), and his glasses had disappeared somewhere along with them. Gritting his teeth, Yuuri squinted, attempting to feel the shackles with numb fingers, looking for something to work with. He looked down at his feet, chained to the wall and not to the ceiling like his hands, lifting his right leg up as much as he could (it wasn’t much) and squinting down at that one, too.

No good.

It really did look like he had been outsmarted this time around.

But because Yuuri was a very stubborn and determined specimen of the human race, giving up was an expression that didn’t exist even remotely close to his vocabulary. Hence, instead of accepting any kind of defeat, he tried the shackles around his wrists again.

Deep inhale, slow exhale…

He fumbled blindly, skin buzzing from the lack of blood flow to his hands as he tried feeling along the metal. There had to be something he could take advantage of, there _had_ to be. Unless the restraints had been welded around his wrists, there was always a way to open them up that didn’t involve a key.

And since there _were_ locks reserved for a key or two, they weren’t welded, and therefore could be opened.

_Hm?_

His right pinky finger hit something. Something sharp.

Yuuri furrowed his brows, flexing his fingers and praying for the numbness to subside, then tried again. Yes, there was definitely a sharper edge there that felt… off. Resigning to his fate that he would probably have to sacrifice his fingertips, he breathed deeply once again and steeled his resolve.

Maybe, just maybe, he could get his right hand free…

Some fumbling and cursing later, he felt the restraint around his hand start to give way when the lock on the door clicked open. Yuuri stilled, narrowing his eyes to the most murderous glare he could muster as he spotted a blur vaguely resembling a tall person with silver hair stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He was dressed in black, and even though Yuuri couldn’t make out any details from a distance, he had a hunch the man was wearing a pristine, black three-piece suit. And probably leather gloves.

The man was alone.

Yuuri very much wanted to strangle him. Or at least scream at him.

“Well, look at you,” the man murmured, voice low and dark, drawing closer until Yuuri could make out piercing blue eyes boring into him, glimmering in wicked satisfaction and barely restrained anger, “finally a set of restraints that can hold my little bird in place, hm?”

While he would have liked to shout strings of profanities in his face (duct tape or not), Yuuri kept dead silent, resolving to not make any noise at all. He only continued to glare. The response was an ominous chuckle.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor sighed, trailing a gloved finger along Yuuri’s jawline to his chin, tilting his head up, “you look enraged enough to kill me.” His features hardened. “And yet, you really have no right to be angry.”

The pakhan’s eyes were glacial cold as he cupped Yuuri’s cheeks with both hands. Yuuri cursed the thought that the soft leather felt annoyingly _nice_ against his skin, even with Viktor’s grip tightening.

“Two. Months. _Two months_ , Yuuri.” Viktor hissed through gritted teeth, thumbs pressing painfully against his cheekbones. “No note, no call, nothing. Not a single word.” He was suddenly even closer, matching Yuuri’s anger with no effort at all, and Yuuri could tell because he suddenly could see details, their noses almost touching.

“I’m wounded, _zolotse_ , I’ve worried, I haven’t slept, but I’ve been patient.”

His eyes narrowed, the only warning Yuuri got before his left cheek was released and his flow of air was blocked by strong fingers squeezing his nose. Yuuri’s eyes widened even as his head spun, squirming against the shackles and Viktor’s death grip.

He could get out of the restraints, he could! Just a little more…!

“But my patience isn’t endless, Yuuri.” Viktor growled, foreboding and dangerous, words burning like hellfire. “Not even with you. Or, perhaps…” he suddenly released Yuuri’s nose only to abruptly pull the duct tape off his mouth, making him gasp in pain and his head reel at the sudden rush of oxygen, “… _especially_ not with you.”

Yuuri didn’t manage to stop the room from spinning before Viktor had grabbed his chin and crashed their lips together in a hungry kiss, as if he was a starving man and Yuuri was everything he ever wanted to eat and drink. He used Viktor’s urgency to his advantage, parting his lips for a quick intake of breath, then kept breathing through his nose and distracting Viktor by kissing back, reaching for that tiny, sharp edge of the shackle holding his right hand…

_Click!_

And managed to break it free.

However, Viktor had apparently understood precisely what he was doing, because Yuuri didn’t get a chance to do anything with his partial freedom before he was seized tightly around the wrist. Viktor twisted his arm to pin it to Yuuri’s back, holding it there and pressing closer, keeping Yuuri trapped between the wall and his own taller, broader frame.

“Disappear like that _one more time_ …” he rasped angrily against Yuuri’s lips, sending his pulse into a frenzy and an all too pleasant shudder up his spine, “…and I will have an iron collar welded around your neck and keep you chained to myself at all times, never to leave my sight.”

A firm, muscular thigh pressed between Yuuri’s legs, pushing him further to the wall behind him. Yuuri only kind of hated himself, or his body, for his blood rushing south as quickly as it did. Mostly because it had Viktor grinning at him in wicked triumph.

“But I think you would like that a little too much, wouldn’t you, Yuuri?” he breathed, pressing Yuuri’s chin up to mouth at his neck, wasting no time marking the skin to his heart’s content. Yuuri definitely enjoyed it far too much for his own liking, “Oh yes, you would. And now,” a gloved palm made contact with Yuuri’s cheek, this time with a sting, even though it wasn’t quite a slap. More like a warning of a slap, “where the _hell_ have you been, sweetheart?” another almost-slap, “Tell me.”

Yuuri attempted to stare Viktor down defiantly. That strategy only had the pakhan’s eyes narrowing, piercing him, reading him like the open book he was to him.

“You’ve done something stupid, haven’t you? What is it this time, hm? And what has you this angered?” a hand grabbed the hem of Yuuri’s pants and pulled up _hard_ , causing him to wince embarrassingly. Viktor hummed contemplatively at that, “You’re not going to talk until I figure it out, are you?”

He mercifully released Yuuri’s trousers, hand traveling up his side and over his shoulder to his neck and up to tangle into his growing black locks. Viktor’s grip tightened, and Yuuri clenched his jaws to not let another embarrassing noise slip out.

“Oh, I think I know.” Viktor murmured, breath hot as his lips ghosted over Yuuri’s. “You’re angry because I didn’t come to get you myself, is that it? You’re disappointed I didn’t do it on my own.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Well, frankly my darling, I have work to do, and I am still quite offended that you decided you had something _better_ to do and just left in the middle of the night without even leaving a note.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done it before.” Yuuri finally gave in, speaking up, voice hoarse from lack of use.

_Slap!_

“ _I was worried sick, Yuuri!_ ” Viktor exclaimed, gloved hand already soothing the cheek it had struck, “I was convinced you had either left for good for some inexplicable reason, or that you had been killed.” _Slap!_ “Seriously, what the hell, Yuuri?!”

“I was on my way _home_ , Viktor!” Yuuri confessed, exasperated, wringing his hand free from Viktor’s grasp, “I left without a word because I didn’t make the rules to the game _they_ made, and all I could do was follow instructions. They threatened to kill _you_ , so I decided to do as they told me… up until the point I could safely take them out one by one.” He finally managed to break his other hand free as well, taking hold of Viktor’s wrist in turn to pull the hand off his cheek.

“And who’s _they?_ ”

“Yermilov’s group. Not that it matters any longer, since I killed every last one of them, and then tricked the authorities into thinking another mob was behind it. And _then_ I stopped by Yakov and Lilia to check on them. Yakov has recovered from his pneumonia, by the way, and asked me to deliver you the promise of an early death if you don’t give him a call within the week.”

He scowled, “But I was on my way _home_ when Yuri, Otabek, Mila and Georgi suddenly showed up with an _entire squad_ just to _kidnap_ me to the place I was going to! Really, Viktor?! Had I told you where I was headed, you would have followed me, or sent someone else to follow me, and probably gotten yourself or someone else needlessly killed for nothing. You’ve done it before, unfortunately, and the last time, it was _too close!_ ”

Yuuri’s chest heaved as if he had run a marathon without stopping for a drink. Viktor looked torn between anger, surprise and even more worry, and settled for being all of those things at once, and frustrated on top of it.

“Don’t _ever_ …” he hissed, “…do that again.”

“I will if the stakes are too high not to.” Yuuri told him solemnly, because if there was one thing he hated more than most in the world, it was lying to Viktor. “If the risk is losing you, it’s not one I’m willing to take.”

Viktor huffed, “You’re selfish, Yuuri, and you’ve always been. Did you ever stop for one second to think about what _I_ thought? How I felt?” his hands had come to rest on Yuuri’s hips, and his grip was more than strong enough to bruise, “I thought I had _lost_ you.”

His heart trembled dangerously at the barely-there tremor in Viktor’s voice. Yuuri closed his eyes briefly, sighing in a softer exhale.

“You didn’t, and you haven’t.” He murmured, reaching up to place a hand on the nape of Viktor’s neck to coax him closer, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “The stakes were too high this time, Vitya. I’m sorry.”

The sigh escaping Viktor’s lips was a long one, he let go off Yuuri’s hips in favor of wrapping his arms tightly around his waist instead to pulled him close so he could bury his face into the crook of Yuuri’s neck. A little more pressure around his middle and Yuuri was certain either a rib or his spine would give way and snap.

“At least leave a note next time assuring me you’ll come back.” Viktor muttered.

It was a demand, not a request. Viktor never requested anything.

“…deal.” Yuuri relented, because the thing he hated above all else in the entire universe was having his husband teetering on the edge of crying (well, not exactly, because he hated it even more when Viktor actually cried, which thankfully was a very rare occurrence). “But only if you swear this was the last time you kidnap me home. Or have others kidnapping me home.”

“Deal.” Viktor whispered into his neck, sighing again. “I missed you, Yuuri.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Yuuri had to marvel still, after almost ten years of marriage, at the fact that beneath the ice-cold demeanor of Viktor Nikiforov-Katsuki was a vulnerable man with emotions the strength of a hurricane. A force of nature with a glass heart.

Yuuri had to admit to himself that he didn’t fare much better in that department. Hence, he admitted aloud:

“I missed you, too, Vitya.”

Seemingly pleased with the honest reply, Viktor gently kissed Yuuri’s reddened cheek apologetically (he really hadn’t slapped that hard, only enough to get his point across) before dropping to his knees to free Yuuri’s ankles from the restraints. When he was done, Yuuri offered him a hand to help him back onto his feet, heart fluttering as Viktor carefully cupped his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss.

They had never been good at communicating.

They were even worse when it came to putting words to their feelings, and it really didn’t help that they were in a constant, hopeless battle to figure out who was the pettiest.

And who was more of an idiot.

(It usually ended up in a tie.)

But there were forms of communication that suited them better than words, especially when it came to feelings.

Case in point, the kiss told Yuuri everything he needed to know in that moment. Viktor was conveying his every last drop of emotion through their interlocked lips, and Yuuri was doing his utmost to meet him halfway and do the same.

_I missed you._

_I love you._

_Stay close to me._

**Author's Note:**

> The original ask/prompt was "I think mafia boss Viktor would kidnap his husband home if he was away for too long." Then followed a discussion that shaped the thought some more, and this little thing was written.
> 
> ...I seriously can't believe I wrote this. It was fun, though.  
> Hence, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I might be taking a break for day 4 (the free day), because I'm drowning in work and still recovering from that virus that took away half a month of my life, but I will at return for day 5 anyway.
> 
> Have a nice weekend! ^.^


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